Winner Take All
by sknkodiak
Summary: A coda to the episode, Winners. Adam receives a letter from an old friend


**Winner Take All**

_A coda to the episode, Winners_

Follows the episode, A Ring For Hannah

* * *

"Adam!" Guthrie yelled. "You got a package!"

Adam McFadden came down the stairs, pulling a clean shirt over his head. "Guthrie, I'm right here, not up at the Tops. You don't have to yell."

"Sorry," the youngest McFadden said unapologetically. "Look!" He held out the package, it was about a foot long, wrapped in brown mailing paper. Adam took it and studied the return address. He raised his eyebrows. "Who do we know in Valdosta, Georgia?"

"Who do _you _know," Guthrie corrected. "It's addressed to you." He jumped a little in excitement. "Maybe it's more candy!"

"Oh, God, I hope not," Adam moaned. "And you, young man, don't _need_ any more candy. We can't afford the dental bills!"

Guthrie grinned impishly. "You know, some of those new jeans that came in are way too small for Ford, but they're too big for me. I have to grow into them!"

"And I'm sure you will," Adam stated dryly, "Without eating any more candy."

To tell the truth, Adam was uncomfortable with all the gifts that had arrived since the story of the cave-in at the Howling Man mine had made the news. The story had been picked up by the national feed, and for two weeks afterwards, mail flooded into Murphys for the McFaddens. Some of it was just cards and letters, all these people Adam had never heard of, from all around the country, saying how happy they were everything had turned out all right and how brave the boys had been. Not that Adam disagreed with them, but he really wanted Daniel, Evan, Ford and Guthrie to _avoid_ doing anything so foolhardy in the future, not be praised for it.

What had really upset him were the gifts. Money, hundreds of dollars. Packages of candy and fruit and clothes. Adam had said to his wife, Hannah, _"Why all this? They do know we didn't lose our home or anything, don't they?"_

_"People feel good when they help, Adam," Hannah had replied wisely. "They couldn't do anything that night except pray, so now they want to share in the joy. Sending all this makes them feel good."_

"But we don't take charity!" It was one thing to take a casserole or a pie from someone you'd known your whole life; it was something different to have total strangers sending you money for no good reason.

Adam would have sent the money and gifts back where they'd come from, if he could have. But a lot were sent anonymously, and Hannah, and Tom and Carey Barrett, had convinced him he'd hurt the people sending stuff if he returned it. He didn't know what to do about the money. It wasn't like they couldn't use it, but it just rubbed him the wrong way to take it.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Guthrie demanded, and Adam had to smile. Guthrie didn't seem to have his older brother's pride getting in the way; he was just excited to get so much mail.

"All right," he agreed, sitting down on the sofa. Guthrie flopped down next to him and offered him the letter opener.

When Adam had got all the paper off the package, he pulled the top off the box and said, "What is this?"

"This" was something almost as long as the box and wedged tightly inside, wrapped with what looked like layers of bubble-wrap.

"Cool!" Guthrie exclaimed. "Hannah likes the bubble wrap. She likes to pop it."

"Oh, _Hannah _does, does she? Seems like I saw you and Ford doing your share of popping it, too."

Guthrie shrugged happily. "We were just keeping her company. Hey look!" He leaned over and tugged an envelope out from the side of the box. It simply said "Adam" on the front, in plain block printing. Adam took it from Guthrie and noticed the thickness. He slit the envelope with the letter opener and several pages covered closely with handwriting fell into his lap.

"You got a letter!" Guthrie announced.

"How much chocolate have you had today?" Adam asked him, opening the pages. "You're acting like you're on a sugar high." He shuffled through the letter-it was obvious it was a letter now-to the last page, glancing down for the signature. When he saw it he felt himself tense up.

"Adam?" Guthrie had sensed his unease and his spirits immediately plunged. He patted his oldest brother's arm. "Who's it from?"

"It's from Hoops," Adam answered tonelessly.

7Bf7B

It was late that evening, after he and Hannah had gone up to their room, and the house quieted down for the night, before Adam could bring himself to look at the letter again.

Adam hadn't heard from his high school best friend since their ill-timed tenth reunion. The last view he'd had of Hoops had been the other man's shocked eyes meeting his as Mike had walked out of the gym and been arrested. There hadn't been a trial; Mike had confessed his part in the cattle rustling scheme and been sentenced to five years in prison. Adam knew it was a lighter sentence than it could have been, since Mike had testified against the other members of the gang. He'd heard Hoops had paid for a good lawyer to help Mike.

Adam had visited Mike once in jail, before he'd been sent to the state prison to serve his sentence. Mike was apologetic, and Adam didn't hold a grudge against him; still, the conversation had been awkward. Adam couldn't help feeling guilty that he'd played a part in Mike's arrest. When he hadn't heard from Hoops, he figured his other friend blamed him, as well.

Now here was a package from Hoops-and what was he doing in Georgia?-and a thick letter. Apparently, _now _Hoops had something to say.

"You might as well read it," Hannah urged him gently. "You're not going to sleep, until you do."

"Kind of afraid to," Adam admitted, something he would never be able to tell anyone else, but her.

Hannah cuddled close to him. "You'll never know what he has to say, until you read it. Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No!" Adam reached out and grabbed her hand. "No, please. You stay right here, okay?"

Hannah smiled at him. "I'll always be right here beside you, cowboy."

Adam kissed her, and then took a deep breath and unfolded the pages.

_Dear Adam,_

_First of all, I want to say how glad I am your brothers are all right. I was in the middle of closing out my life in Philadelphia and moving down here to Georgia, and somehow I missed the story about the mine. My cousin, Paul-remember him? He's the same age as Crane-he lives in Modesto now and was part of the group that came to help at the Howling Man. By the time he got there, it was all over and the boys were safe, but I talked to him today and he told me what happened. I am so sorry I couldn't be there to help. It must have been terrible for you. I know how much your brothers mean to you._

_Anyway, I'm now officially a college coach. Well, JuCo, at least. Got offered a job down here in Valdosta. I was packing things up and I ran across the MVP trophy from our last year in high school. I'm sending it to you. I made a change to it. I always felt it should have been yours, anyway-you made the winning basket, after all-but I guess I was selfish and I accepted it anyway. Just like I took the award at the reunion. I told your wife, if it had been up to me, I would have given that award to you, as well. You deserve both of them._

_I was going to tell you this that day, after the brunch, but with Mike getting arrested and everything, and then you just disappeared and I had to catch a plane. It's late at night here, but I can't let another day go by without telling you what I think about you._

_First of all, if I know you at all, and I do, you're probably blaming yourself about Mike being arrested. Don't. Mike made his own choices, just like we all did, and his were bad. He knows it, too. I've talked with him. He told me how miserable you looked when you visited him. Mike's too ashamed to tell you this, but I will. Adam, you saved his life. Those guys were going to kill him; it was just a matter of time. Because it was you, because he didn't want to take cattle from your ranch, he had the courage to stand against them. You were a far better friend to him that day than most would have been. You let him surrender himself to the sheriff like a man, and avoided a big fuss at the reunion. He's grateful to you for that, as well as pleading for leniency for him. No, he didn't tell me that part, the lawyer I hired for him did. He'll probably only have to serve maybe half of his sentence, and that's due to you. But even if he has to serve the whole five years, Adam, it's not your fault. If Mike had half your guts, he would never have gotten tangled up with those guys in the first place._

_Second, I want to tell you how much I respect you. I said earlier we all had choices, but you really didn't. Your parents died and you turned your back on your dreams so your little brothers wouldn't have to go to foster care. I know how hard you worked to keep the whole family together. My mom and dad still lived there then, and Mom told me all about you. She said she looked over one day in church and saw you sitting there with all the kids. She said you looked so alone, surrounded by your big family, but really all alone. I could have been a better friend back to you then, but I was a kid. All I could think of was the next party or the next game. I remember that first time I came home from college, and it was like you and I didn't even speak the same language anymore. At the time I blamed you, but it took losing my wife and the game I loved to make me realize we weren't on the same wavelength anymore because you had grown up. You had to grow up, and I was still a kid. If I hadn't had your example before me, I don't know how I would have accepted leaving pro basketball. As it is, I am excited about this new part of my life. And you taught me that. It's trite, but there's that saying, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Buddy, you didn't just make lemonade, you grew a whole grove of trees!_

_Third, it's not just me that respects you for what you did, and for the man you are. Everybody was talking about you at the reunion, and I talked to a lot of people in town, too. You are so respected, Adam, so valued. That whole town adores you. You truly are a favored son. You probably don't see it because you're right there, and besides, I bet you're as humble as you always were. I saw some of your brothers when I was there for the reunion. I even heard Daniel's band play down at that bar one night. I remember him at your folk's funeral. That little scared kid, and that night at the bar he charmed everyone and he's got a great voice too. But it's not just him. I remember Crane. He was so shy and uncertain when he was young and now, look at him. I heard he graduated college in just three years. And everyone loves him for that whole thing about the co-op. Didn't think I knew about that, did you? I could yell at you for not calling me-I've got the money, man, and I would help you in a second, but you'd never ask for it, would you?_

_Did you know Mike and I used to laugh that Brian probably wouldn't make it out of high school before being arrested? Not funny, now, but in a way it is. Brian and I had a beer that night when I was listening to Daniel. Wow. What a change. He says you're his best friend, and I believe it. _

_I saw Guthrie too, and Ford. Guthrie asked me for my autograph. He recited our high school stats like he'd memorized them. I think he did. And it may have been my autograph he asked for, but it's you he worships. All I could think of was he was just a baby when your parents died. You are really the only parent he's ever known, and look at him. Look at all of them. You've done a great job with all of them, Adam. And, if I know anything, you and that pretty wife of yours will have some kids pretty soon, and you'll get to do it all over again. And you'll be great at it, because you __**are**__ great at it._

_So take the trophy, Adam. Put it somewhere you can see it, and know, I may have had the pro ball career, but you're __**my **__hero. You're the person I most want to be when I grow up. I'm growing up now, but you grew up overnight, ten years ago._

_And do me a favor, huh? Remember, you're still my friend, and I hope I'm yours. Call me, okay? I know you don't take help easily, I remember that, but realize you're doing me the honor when you do. And if Evan, Ford or Guthrie wants to play college hoops, call me. I'll take care of them. It's the least I can do for my friend._

_Let's not go another ten years before we see each other, okay?_

_Hoops_

Adam looked up from the letter, surprised to find his eyes were wet. He looked over at Hannah and saw her beautiful smile. She had tears in her eyes, too.

He couldn't say anything. Instead, he reached into the box and pulled out what he now knew was the MVP trophy. Removing all the bubble wrap, he held it out and just looked at it, remembering that night at the awards banquet. He'd wanted to win, but Hoops had, and he'd smothered his jealousy and congratulated his friend. He thought maybe his folks had realized how hard it was for him. He remembered his mama saying something about it, later, about how trophies weren't really a measure of a man. He'd blocked her out because he was seventeen and really thought trophies _were_ the measure of a man.

Then a few months later she and his father were gone and Adam realized that all the trophies in the world didn't mean anything when you were struggling to keep a ranch and a family together.

There was a new brass plaque on the walnut base. Shiny and clear, it read,

Adam McFadden

Most Valuable _Person_

Class of 1972.

_._


End file.
